


A Hippocratic Proof

by stillwaters01



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, McCoy is an awesome doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillwaters01/pseuds/stillwaters01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When McCoy expresses doubt in his ability to honor his oath, Spock steps in.</p><p>(Originally published 10/11/10)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hippocratic Proof

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing, with love and respect to those who brought these characters to life.
> 
> Written: 10/10/10 – 10/11/10
> 
> Notes: This was one of those ideas that just came out of nowhere and demanded to be written. I hope I did the characters and emotions justice. Thank you for your support.

 

 

“Doctor, I have yet to receive your final report on the Sinmedin mission,” Spock strode into the sickbay research lab with customary, purposeful precision.

 

McCoy restrained himself from letting out an audible breath.  Rolling his eyes heavenward with a silent prayer for strength, he straightened from the console and turned around.  “You haven’t _received_ it, Mr. Spock, because I haven’t _finished_ it yet,” he retorted, one eyebrow arched over pointed blue.

 

Spock titled his head fractionally to the right, brows furrowing slightly as he fixed McCoy with a calculating look.  “I do not understand, Doctor,” he said.  “You have already determined the causative organism, and have successfully treated sixty Sinmedin with the appropriate medication.  I see no reason for such a delay.”

 

McCoy’s shoulders slumped even as his eyes widened in disbelief.  ‘Lord preserve us from single-minded Vulcans’ he thought silently, hearing the plea lift upward in his grandmother’s molasses-thick drawl.  “The reason for the _delay_ , Spock, was that I was running a full serotype series on each of the deceased and then running _that_ through the Federation’s epidemiological database.  You know what I found?”

 

Spock sighed.  “An illogical question Doctor, as I have just informed you that I do not yet have your final report on the matter.”

 

McCoy closed his eyes briefly, leaning forward against the table, resting his full weight on blanching palms, head bowed.  “What I _found_ , Mr. Spock,” McCoy sighed, before bringing his head back up to lock eyes with the Vulcan officer, “is a direct match to the exact organism involved in an isolated outbreak of pneumococcal meningitis on Gamma V two years ago.”

 

“Gamma V is a Federation planet, specifically serving as a research base for anthropological survey teams,” Spock recalled aloud.  “It was my understanding that the standard Federation vaccination programs have eradicated all forms of bacterial and viral meningitis.  Such an outbreak would be most irregular in a Federation population, yet I do not recall a report on such an incident.”

 

“That’s because there wasn’t one,” McCoy supplied, eyes flashing.  “At least, not officially.  An old friend of mine from Atlanta General consults for Starfleet Medical’s preventative medicine department.  He knew the doctor who was sent to Gamma V for their yearly health certifications and vaccines.  Apparently, one of the survey teams refused the standard vaccines for both themselves and their children, insisting that if they were to live among pre-industrial societies, that they should follow those societies not only in dress, diet, and technology, but in medical care and beliefs as well.  The physician provided the appropriate education, documented the incident, and informed Starfleet that the team should be restricted to the planet.”

 

“A logical response,” Spock agreed.

 

“Yeah,” McCoy let out a bitter breath.  “Logical until that survey team took their children and traveled to Sinmedin for a three month comparative study with their previous work on Aurellia.”

 

Spock’s eyebrows rose.  “With Starfleet’s approval?”

 

“With Starfleet’s approval,” McCoy repeated tonelessly.  He scrubbed a hand across his face.  “And _now_ , I’m looking at the same _exact_ serotype of _S. pneumoniae_ reported in the Gamma V outbreak.”  He paused briefly before continuing, “Most humans carry _Streptococcus pneumoniae_ relatively harmlessly in the nasopharynx.  With the current vaccine protocol, even the number of carriers have gone down, since there’s virtually no way the bacteria can progress into anything harmful.  Without the vaccines, the Gamma V survey team, particularly the children, remained carriers, and, as the bacteria tends to do with weakened or immature immune systems, one of the children started showing respiratory symptoms before leaving the planet.  No one on either the survey team _or_ the final Starfleet Medical approval team thought that was a problem.”  McCoy slapped the table, hard.  “Dammit Spock, a first year xenobiology intern could tell you that just because another species is humanoid, it doesn’t mean they won’t be susceptible to a whole _host_ of human diseases.  You don’t even have to look past the basic neurophysiologic profile to see that the Sinmedin would _easily_ be affected by _S. pneumoniae_.  I guess it’s been so long since meningitis was even _considered_ in differentials that everyone just plum _forgot_ history and let them go.”

 

“And the bacteria spread,” Spock supplied quietly.

 

“Right into the blood and cerebrospinal fluid of six hundred eight-five Sinmedin,” McCoy sagged momentarily before straightening angrily.  “There’s been a rudimentary vaccine for pneumococcal meningitis since the twentieth century.  We’ve all but eliminated the bacteria and viruses responsible in the last two hundred years, and even in those isolated cases in non-vaccinated populations, we have a treatment regimen with a ninety-eight percent cure rate.”  McCoy was running out of steam.  “And now, due to nothin’ short of pure negligence, my staff has spent the last week performin’ autopsies.”  McCoy reached for a record tape and waved it in passionate despair.  “Three hundred twenty-five adults, one hundred seventy children, and one hundred thirty infants.”

 

“Doctor, this additional data will prove invaluable to Starfleet’s investigation of the matter,” Spock said.  “I shall inform the Captain that your report….”

 

McCoy cut him off with a dark chuckle.  “An’ what makes you think Starfleet’s even gonna _look_ at my correlation, Mr. Spock?  I highly doubt the same people that allowed the survey team to come and go _and_ prevented the _preventative_ _medicine_ department from doin’ their duty is gonna step in and make this right.”  McCoy shook his head ruefully.  “What’s the point of recruitin’ doctors, then not listenin’ to that training?”  He paused nearly a full minute before musing wistfully, “‘ _I will prevent disease wherever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.’_ ”

 

“I apologize Doctor, I am unfamiliar with….” Spock began referring to McCoy’s soft quote.

 

“Not your oath,” McCoy waved Spock’s words away.  He sighed heavily, rising on the balls of his feet in sharp, staccato snaps as agitation warred with despair.  “Sorry, Spock,” he tried for a reassuring half-smile, “I didn’t mean to let all that out on ya.  Not your fault I’m feelin’ lower’n a doodle bug right now.  I’ll get to finishin’ that report.”  He turned back to the computer screen.

 

Spock watched the physician collapse into himself.  “Doctor, you do not appear well,” he said, his human half modulating the objective statement with a barely perceptible gentle, open concern.

 

Spock nearly cringed as McCoy let out another mirthless laugh.  “Spock, I don’t see how anyone can be anythin’ other than spittin’ mad after all this.”  He pinched the bridge of his nose for a long moment.  When he spoke again, his voice was low, but tinged with the hope of understanding.  “Spock, you ever……” he trailed off.

 

Spock waited one point three minutes before speaking.  “Please, continue Doctor,” he prompted.

 

McCoy sighed again.  “You ever feel like……..all you wanna do is honor your oath and you just _can’t_?”  He ducked his head, as if embarrassed that he lent voice to that thought. 

 

Spock thought back to McCoy’s earlier soft quote, filing the words away for future research.  He considered the question carefully before responding.  “As I have not taken a medical oath, I do not have sufficient data or experience to respond regarding that particular matter,” he began, before adding quietly, “but I have, by virtue of my oath as a Starfleet officer, had to accept and act on orders that, by their very definition, required me to break that oath.”

 

McCoy recalled that incident with the Romulan commander.  He resisted the urge to bring out his psychological training and instead watched Spock carefully, his eyes asking the question wordlessly.

 

Spock understood.  “I believe, were I human, the emotions would be ‘frustration’, ‘anger’, and ‘depression.’  As a Vulcan…..” he stared at a point beyond McCoy’s head for a moment, “….it was most….. unsettling.”

 

McCoy nodded slowly, a small measure of gratitude softening the suddenly overwhelming weariness in his eyes.  “Yes, I would imagine it was, Spock,” he acknowledged the Vulcan’s admission.  “And you nailed the human side too.”  His voice dropped as he mumbled, seemingly to himself, “After a week like this, sometimes you wonder if you’ve ever been able to uphold it at all.”

 

Spock moved to speak again, shocked by the uncharacteristically morose declaration from the normally passionately bright physician.  McCoy cut him off with another of those half-smiles.  Spock had learned, early on in his study of his human friends, that McCoy had the uncanny ability to appear perfectly fine when he was far from it.  He immediately noted how McCoy had managed to move this smile to his eyes, somehow overshadowing the intense weariness that was there five point three seconds ago. 

 

“I’ll get that report to you directly, Spock,” McCoy assured the First Officer, his voice betraying nothing of his recent lapse into melancholy.

 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Spock acknowledged.  “Are you quite certain…..” he offered.

 

McCoy waved him off.  “I’m just tiahd Spock,” his accent flared, giving away his true physical and emotional state.  He smiled again, accent dampened as he added sincerely, “Thanks.”       

 

“Of course, Doctor,” Spock bowed his head slightly in response and left the room.  Upon returning to his quarters, he immediately headed for the comm.  “Spock to Captain Kirk.”

 

Kirk leaned in to the vid screen, shifting over from the right side of his desk where he had been working to reply, “Yes, Mr. Spock, what is it?”

 

“Are you alone, Captain?” Spock inquired.

 

Kirk frowned.  “Yes.  What’s wrong, Spock?” he was on immediate alert.

 

Spock proceeded to relate McCoy’s findings on Starfleet Medical’s involvement in the meningitis epidemic.  Kirk’s eyes darkened.  “When you get Bones’ report, I want you to flag that section.  Have Uhura send it priority one, on my responsibility, to all of Starfleet Medical as well as the Admiralty.  I want this out there for everyone to see, Spock, before someone tries to say it never happened.”

 

“Acknowledged, Captain,” Spock nodded, his human half agreeing wholeheartedly with Kirk’s righteous anger, a disturbing trait that seemed to develop further with each year spent in Kirk’s company.

 

“How _is_ Bones?” Kirk asked worriedly.  “This week’s been hell for him with the death toll alone…..and now knowing that the whole thing could have been prevented…..”

 

Spock summarized McCoy’s words, leaving out the direct question the physician had asked of him.  He related the unfamiliar quote and McCoy’s final, murmured doubt regarding his impact as a whole.

 

Kirk sighed heavily.  “That quote is part of the Hippocratic Oath,” he explained softly.  “Not the ancient Greek version, but a more modern one adapted in the twentieth century, and the one Bones took when he finished medical school.”  His eyes shone at the despair in McCoy’s doubts.  “We should have dinner tonight, Spock,” he decided.  “You, me, and Bones.  The number of times he’s fulfilled that oath with us _alone_ should be enough to remind him that he’s a damn good doctor and right where he belongs.”

 

Spock nodded, filing Kirk’s words for further consideration.  “An excellent idea, Captain,” he agreed.

 

“Bones is off at 2100,” Kirk recalled the current schedule.  “I’ll pick him up in sickbay and meet you in my quarters at 2115?”

 

“I shall meet you then,” Spock confirmed.

 

“Thanks, Spock,” Kirk’s eyes cleared with gratitude before he closed the channel with his customary, “Kirk out.”

 

Spock turned to his left.  “Computer, locate full reading of twentieth century Hippocratic Oath.”

 

“Working,” the flat female voice responded.  Eight point one seconds passed before the curt, “Completed.”

 

“On screen,” Spock turned back to the monitor.  He read the text quickly, brows furrowing slightly as he recalled McCoy’s despairing words.  He shifted back to the computer.  “Computer, display medical logs of Dr. Leonard McCoy from his assignment to the Enterprise through the current stardate.  Full text on screen.”  Spock’s eyes flew through several years of McCoy’s diagnoses, treatments, and reports, his mind rapidly correlating individual actions with corresponding values in the Oath.  With a barely perceptible frown, he called sickbay.  “Spock to Nurse Chapel.”

 

“Chapel here,” Christine looked up from the record she was updating.

 

“Nurse, are you aware of any recent cerebral or neurological injury that Dr. McCoy may be attempting to conceal?” he launched right into his query.  After McCoy’s bout with xenopolycythemia, he quickly realized that the physician could not be trusted to fully disclose his true physiological status.  While Kirk was often able to discover the truth by virtue of his captaincy, Spock knew that, when it _really_ came to McCoy’s well-being, that _nothing_ got past Christine Chapel.

 

“WHAT?” Christine bolted to her feet, as if ready to track McCoy down and give him a full physical scan herself.  She leaned back down to meet Spock’s eyes through the view screen.  “What symptoms is he showing?” she demanded.

 

Spock began to reconsider his current hypothesis.  Generally, when his concerns had validity, Christine was calmer, matching up Spock’s observations with her own, all the while cursing her gut and McCoy’s stubborn, selfless, stupidity.  This reaction was highly irregular, but he proceeded anyway, relating McCoy’s depressed doubt regarding his honor to his oath.  “I have reviewed the entirety of Dr. McCoy’s medical logs during his tenure as Chief Medical Officer aboard this vessel,” Spock concluded, “and I have noted numerous instances of the Doctor not only meeting, but surpassing, the tenets of his medical oath.  I cannot understand how such a volume of supportive data could be completely forgotten, as must have occurred for that statement to be made.  I can only surmise that the Doctor must be suffering from a neurological deficit severe enough to impair such specific short and long term memories.”

 

Christine sank back into her chair with a shaky exhalation, unsure if it was laughter, relief, or both.  “Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy just spent a week conducting autopsies, many of them on children.  That’s depressing _enough_ without finding out the whole thing could have been prevented by proper vaccination and xenosurvey protocol.  He’s tired and depressed and so his mind’s started doubting if anything he’s touched has ever had a positive outcome…..if he’s ever lived up to those words he holds so highly.  It’s a perfectly normal, human response.”

 

Spock canted his head slightly to the left.  “Dr. McCoy saved sixty Sinmedin lives during this mission.  To believe he has failed in his duties as a physician is illogical.”

 

“I never said it was _logical_ , Mr. Spock…..just that it was _normal_ ,” Christine clarified.  “Yes, he saved sixty lives this week, and more lives than we’ll probably ever know over his career, but all he can see right now are over six hundred dead Sinmedin and a set of orders that went against everything he believes.  He _knows_ he’s done his oath proud…..he’s just having a hard time seeing those moments right now.  Sometimes we just need someone to remind us of the good we’ve done…..that we _have_ lived up to our ideals…..that we _matter_.  It may be far from logical, but it _is_ human.”

 

Spock was quiet for a long moment before meeting Christine’s eyes with an intense focus.  “I believe I understand now.  Thank you, Christine,” he said softly before the screen went black.  He returned his attention to the computer.  “Computer, split screen.  Match Dr. McCoy’s medical logs with correlating mission reports from all departments.”

 

“Completed,” the flat voice confirmed.

 

“Engage voice-command notation,” Spock’s eyes were already flying through the material.

 

“Engaged.”

 

A small window at the bottom of the split screen beeped as it prepared to transfer Spock’s words to text.

 

He began to speak.

 

***

 

McCoy was just finishing the last of his daily reports when the monitor signaled a new message.  He sighed heavily, glancing at the time.  2050.  Kirk would be striding in to drag him off for food and conversation in ten minutes – prescriptions he would have given to any other crewmember in his current condition, but ones he sincerely wanted to ignore for the favor of a drink and early night.  He was sorely tempted to ignore the flashing light, but, recalling that he was expecting a response from his old friend in Georgia, he opened the message without looking at the title or sender.

 

_Doctor McCoy:_

_As First Officer of the Enterprise, it is my duty to determine when a crewmember is in need of corrective action and to implement such action as necessary.  In cases where an underlying medical condition may be a contributing factor, I first refer those crewmembers to you for evaluation.  In this case, however, I have had to adjust my methodology, as it would be most illogical to refer you to yourself for medical evaluation.  I also required time for further research before determining an appropriate plan of action._

_During our conversation on the Sinmedin report, you made a highly illogical statement.  While I am accustomed to a certain level of illogic in humans, particularly you, Doctor, the sheer absence of rational thought present in that declaration caught my attention.  Further examination led to greater cause for concern.  Your exact words were apparently not meant to be shared in our conversation, yet, also of concern, you appeared to forget the sensitivity of Vulcan hearing at the moment you spoke.  You were referring to your medical oath when you stated, “After a week like this, sometimes you wonder if you’ve ever been able to uphold it at all.”  I proceeded to discuss the matter with the Captain, and then cross-referenced the Hippocratic Oath with your medical logs since your appointment as Chief Medical Officer.  Upon noting a disturbing lack of mental recall between the tenets of your oath and your actions as ship’s surgeon, I consulted with Nurse Chapel on your physical, specifically, neurological health.  She informed me that you are indeed physically well and that such forgetfulness is a common human response to several emotions that logically follow such events as have transpired during the Sinmedin mission.  She suggested that, despite years of overwhelmingly supportive data, that you may “need to be reminded” of your honor to your oath.  With this information, I determined a course of corrective action, which is presented as follows: a proof, if you will, formatted largely as a literary review and correlation between your oath, medical logs, and departmental mission reports.  Perhaps such a presentation will succeed in returning to you what logic you possess and dispelling such unfounded doubts as to both your character and skill._

_ I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:  I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow. _

_On Stardate 1513.1, you performed a physical exam on Professor Crater using both established tricorder scans and hands-on visual tonsil examination with a tongue depressor, thereby respecting the assessment techniques of both the modern and ancient physicians involved in their development._

_On Stardate 2713.5, while on Miri’s planet, you based your research on the fragments of work available from the creators of the ‘life prolongation project.’  Once the cure was determined, you published their data along with your own, for future reference and study in the scientific community._

_On Stardate 5693.2, you made gathering the Defiant’s records a priority, studying their medical officer’s logs in order to direct your own research, which culminated in the successful theragen derivative.  Again, you published both sets of data for future reference and study._

_ I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism. _

_On Stardate 3196.1, you successfully suggested and implemented the use of thermoconcrete to heal the injured Horta, a species with which you were medically unfamiliar._

_On Stardate 3287.2, you successfully maintained the Captain’s young nephew in a sedated, painless state while researching the Denevan parasite.  Despite a rapidly declining list of logical treatment options, you did not subject me to a longer surgical procedure than necessary, recognizing the futility in searching out and removing each piece of the creature and understanding that it would be both impossible and therapeutically useless._

_On Stardate 3497.2, you persisted in establishing a medical relationship with a Capellan woman and successfully delivered her child despite having reservations on key anatomical differences and a lack of emergency equipment.  You also persisted in offering education on caring for the newborn, despite an initial cultural refusal, allowing the individual mother to make an informed choice._

_ I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug. _

_On Stardate 1672.1, Geological Technician Fisher reported that your “teasing” bedside manner put him at ease while being treated for a lacerated hand._

_On Stardate 4729.4, Captain Kirk reported, after your repeated demand to know the meaning of the term ‘dunsel’ that you visited his quarters with “alcohol and conversation,” which, according to the Captain, led to a renewed sense of purpose and confidence in his leadership ability and necessity._

_On Stardate 3451.9, Lt. Uhura reported that your “gentleness and understanding” aided her in quickly completing her reeducation.  She stated that your continued insistence on treating her as a professional was instrumental in her return to full duty._

_ I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery. _

_On Stardate 3372.7, you persisted in your attempts to determine the reasons for my irrational behavior while undergoing pon farr.  Despite my refusal to cooperate with the questions brought up by your physical exam, you conducted research into possible conditions, and when that failed, you informed the Captain that I must return to Vulcan, where you knew there was the greatest chance of both an answer and a cure._

_On Stardate 3842.3, you successfully performed cardiac surgery on my father, despite never having operated on a Vulcan before.  You voiced your concerns, listened to both my and my father’s words, conducted further research, and determined a course of action through consultation with my family and the medical staff._

_On Stardate 4211.4, after I was wounded by a primitive flintlock weapon, you turned my care over to Dr. M’Benga, with the knowledge that his internship and education on Vulcan would allow him to provide the proper care while you attended to the Captain on the planet surface._

_ I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God. _

_I cannot reproduce data in support of this first sentence, as, by virtue of the statement, such data should not be recorded in the medical logs or mission reports.  However, I accept the lack of accessible material on private crewmember concerns sufficient evidence of your upholding this tenet._

_As for the remainder of this tenet, I wish only to relate the events of Stardate 5121.5.  On Minara, you determined you had the ability to save two lives – those of the Captain and myself – and you sedated us both so that the Vians would not use us for their final test.  You were also given the chance to take a life – by allowing Gem to heal you, the severity of your injuries would have killed her as well.  You were aware of your closeness to death and yet you held to your beliefs.  Your exact words were – “I can’t destroy life even if it’s to save my own.”_

_ I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick. _

_It would be illogical to reproduce every communication you have sent to the families of crewmembers under your care.  Should you require further data, however, I have recorded testimony from one hundred crewmembers detailing both their and their families’ gratitude for your regular communications on diagnostic results, treatment progress, and implementation of individualized treatment plans based on family statements regarding personal characteristics.  In my experience, my mother was quite pleased with your attention to my father’s physical health, your cultural understanding, and your attentiveness to her questions and emotional needs.  Upon returning to Vulcan, she informed me, that should she ever require the services of a human physician, that you are the only one she would trust._

_ I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure. _

_Again, to list the considerable number of vaccines you have formulated and published as well as the number of times you have arranged for and pushed the delivery of vaccinations to other planets, would require another message in itself.  I will mention the events of Stardate 5843.7, however, as evidence to your dedication to this tenet.  Despite the fact that Mr. Flint’s M4 unit was able to gather and process the ryetalyn needed to halt the spread of Rigellian Fever aboard the Enterprise, you insisted on supervising the refinement process.  By doing so, you discovered that the sample was contaminated with irillium, thus rendering it useless, an error the machine did not discover.  Had you not followed the process closely, the vaccine would not have been prepared in time._

_ I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm. _

_Again, should you require it, I have recorded reports from two hundred fourteen crewmembers detailing positive interactions with you, not only where you treated them for illness or injury, but also  times where you simply provided conversation to healthy crewmembers in need of it._

_ If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help. _

_This data review is only a sample of several years’ worth of supportive evidence regarding your upholding and honoring your medical oath.  As previously stated, if you require further anecdotal evidence, I possess recorded statements from the vast majority of the crew, both those cases detailed in this message as well as others not included in this sample.  The Captain has also prepared a similar list consisting solely of his own experiences.  I did not have sufficient time for a proper statistical analysis, however, the data presented suggests a positive correlation.  Should you require a quantitative analysis of this, regrettably, largely qualitative data, I would be glad to provide a full statistical report upon your request._

_I shall now conclude this message with reference to both Nurse Chapel’s words and the final tenet of your oath.  May this data review dispel all doubt as to your effectiveness as a physician and the strength with which you uphold your ideals.  You not only honor your oath, Doctor, you surpass it, and by that last tenet, may you live long, enjoy life, and continue to experience the joy of healing those who seek your help.  And should you require future “reminders”, I shall be honored to inform you of the good you’ve done….. that you’ve lived up to your ideals….. and that you do indeed matter._

_I shall evaluate the effectiveness of this action at our scheduled meal with the Captain at 2115.  As always, I welcome your input in returning this crewmember to peak efficiency._

_-Spock_

McCoy looked up at the soft knock on the doorframe.  “Hey Bones, ready to go?” Kirk asked brightly.  He frowned at the shine in McCoy’s eyes.  “Bones?  You all right?”

McCoy let his hand linger momentarily over the text before switching off the monitor.  “Fine, Jim.  Just readin’ over an analysis I really needed.”

Kirk smiled, reaching for McCoy’s arm to steer him out of the office.  “Good,” he said.  “Spock’s waiting – and I’m starving.”

McCoy let himself be guided out of sickbay.  “What’s on the menu?” he asked curiously, his appetite suddenly peaking.

Kirk grinned.  “It’s a surprise,” his eyes danced as he added with a wink, “but I’ll give you a hint about the appetizer.  It’s three hundred years old, emerald green, and packs a greater punch than a phaser bank on full.”

McCoy’s eyes widened.  “You saved that?” he asked incredulously.

Kirk laughed.  “Figured it was about time for me to return the favor,” he said, nodding back toward McCoy’s medicinal cabinet.

McCoy felt the last vestiges of darkness fall from his shoulders as they reached Kirk’s quarters.  He nodded familiarly to Spock as they entered, gladly accepting a glass of the Restylean brandy.

“To honoring oaths,” Kirk toasted.

McCoy met Spock’s eyes over the glasses.

“To friendship,” McCoy added, and just before they drank, he murmured, nearly inaudibly, “and to Spock, for letting his human half out long enough to remind me that I’m right where I belong.”

“What was that Bones?” Kirk asked.

“Nothing, Jim,” McCoy smiled.

“Indeed, Captain, even Vulcan aural sensitivity can not consistently make reliable sense of Dr. McCoy’s incessant habit of muttering to himself,” Spock replied.

McCoy grinned as Spock looked up, dark eyes dancing with pleasure as they met McCoy’s sparkling blue. 

Kirk poured another round and called for the food.  He leaned forward.  “So Bones……hypothetically…..if you were offered the chance to direct Starfleet Medical’s preventative medicine department……..would you take it?”  Kirk’s eyes rapidly shifted through several emotions.

McCoy’s eyes widened.  “Jim, you didn’t….” he sputtered.

“No, no, no,” Kirk hastily interrupted.  “I just got the report to the right people…..”

“The entirety of Starfleet Medical and the Admiralty,” Spock supplied.

McCoy groaned.

“….and, let’s just say, you aren’t the only one seeing red,” Kirk finished.

“Really?” McCoy asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Kirk nodded.  “They’re starting a full investigation, but there’s already talk of tearing down the entire department and starting over again.  Your name’s already coming up to take over.”  He paused nervously.  “It would be a great opportunity, Bones,” he offered.

McCoy leaned back thoughtfully.  It _would_ be a great opportunity……but then his thoughts drifted to Spock’s message…..to all the good he had done aboard the Enterprise, both in preventative medicine and in every facet of his oath…….

McCoy raised his glass with a smile.  “No thanks, Jimboy,” he drawled, “I’ve got plenty of opportunities right here.”

As the relief swept through Kirk and Spock’s faces, McCoy sighed contentedly.  This was where he belonged. 

Here, he could fulfill every word of his oath. 

Here, he could watch over these amazing people.

Here, he _mattered_.

**Author's Note:**

> \- The “incident with the Romulan commander” refers to the third season episode “The Enterprise Incident” where Spock and Kirk appear to betray the Federation, while in reality they were under orders to appear having done so to steal cloaking device technology.  
> \- I relied heavily on transcripts for the episode stardates, so I apologize if there are any errors. The episodes referenced, in order of their presentation in Spock’s message are: “The Man Trap”, “Miri”, “The Tholian Web”, “Devil in the Dark”, “Operation Annihilate”, “Friday’s Child”, “The Enemy Within”, “The Ultimate Computer”, “The Changeling”, “Amok Time”, “Journey to Babel”, “A Private Little War”, “The Empath”, “Requiem for Methuselah.”  
> \- The modern Hippocratic Oath was adapted in 1964 by Louis Lasagna, Academic Dean of the School of Medicine at Tufts University. The full text used in this story can be found here: www (dot) pbs (dot) org (slash) wgbh (slash) nova (slash) doctors (slash) oath_modern (dot) html


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